


Buck Cake

by buhfly



Series: Crackship Ahoy! [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, but arthur's skin is more supple, crackfic, eames has a hair trigger, i take no responsibility, this is stan's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-18 10:10:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buhfly/pseuds/buhfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has so many products, Eames is just trying to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buck Cake

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what happened but I know it's Stan's fault. You should blame her. I do.
> 
> In fact, go blame her at her [Tumblr](http://snakewife.tumblr.com).

"Arthur."

"No, Eames."

"Aaaaaaarthur."

Arthur looks up from the paper he's reading and frowns at Eames, creases appearing on his forehead. "What don't you understand about the word 'no'? It's so short, so simple. N-O. No."

"But it's good for your skin!" Eames gives him wide, guileless eyes, putting every ounce of forging experience into looking innocent and earnest. "It's like the bloody fountain of youth and I know how much you like your products."

"That's just a myth, stop being a pervert." Arthur snaps the paper and goes back to reading it.

"Arthur." Eames pitches his voice low and warm and adds in a hint of I'm-trying-to-help-you-you-bastard. "Honestly, there're studies about it. There are companies that use it already. SkinScience--"

"Maybe I should go buy it from them, then."

Eames looks nonplussed for a split second and then carefully affixes a wounded look on his face. The corners of his mouth turn down, his eyes get even bigger; there is, possibly, an ever-so-slight tremble to his bottom lip. "You would use someone else's? And you'd _pay_ for it? Darling, I'm hurt."

Arthur snorts and sips his coffee. "Good, go away."

There are a few moments of blessed silence and Arthur leisurely makes his way through the business section before realizing that it's entirely too quiet. He cautiously lowers the paper to find that Eames hasn't moved, is still standing in the middle of the kitchen in sweatpants and nothing else, arms folded, staring at the floor. His bottom lip, generally full and prominent, seems even more so.

"...Are you pouting?"

"No." The lip pushes out a few extra millimeters.

"Seriously. Are you fucking _pouting_?" Arthur snarls, exasperated.

"I said no," Eames snaps back. His lip is ridiculously out now, in an obvious, guilt-tripping pout.

Arthur glares, mouth thinning into a flat line, and tries to wait it out but Eames just shifts and sighs and pouts some more and it's _so irritating_. "ALL RIGHT. FINE. You can come on my face, you whiny bitch."

Eames lights up from the inside out and has his pants around his ankles too fast to see. He licks his palm and starts stroking himself and Arthur is way too busy--okay, _almost_ too busy--being startled to find that hot. "Wait, Eames, I didn't mean now--ack! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? Since when do you have a hair trigger?"

There's a low, scratchy, self-satisfied laugh and Arthur would definitely do something to endanger Eames' potential ability to breed in the future but it got in his eyes and he misses when he grabs for him.


End file.
